“Grandpa, you don’t have to worry about Mom. I told you I’d figure it out.”
“Not on your own you won’t. You said we’d fight, and we will. Together.”
“Joe’s right, Ellie,” the judge said before she could argue. “He needs to be involved. He needs to know exactly what he’s up against. The first thing your mother will ask for is a legal competency hearing, which Joe will have no problem passing. So both of you get that worry out of your heads.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. Thanks, Judge.” She kissed his cheek and then kissed her grandfather’s. “I’m sorry I was keeping things from you, Grandpa. I was just trying to protect you.”
He patted her cheek. “I know you were. So does that mean the judge and I get off bathroom duty?”
“Nope.” She smiled at the two older men grumbling behind her, both her headache and her mood lifting thanks to Jonathan’s optimistic outlook. Even the thought of the leak in his room couldn’t dampen her spirits. She left the dining room, her steps light as she took the stairs two at a time.
She opened the storage closet directly across from the stairs and grabbed a mop and bucket. Tucking the mop under her arm, she looped the handle of the bucket over her wrist and pulled four fluffy white towels off the top shelf. She left the towels outside Nate’s door and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her jeans. She sent him a text, letting him know that breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen when he got back from his run.
Her mood deflated a little when she saw the state of Jonathan’s room. He hadn’t been exaggerating. She put down the mop and bucket, took off her sneakers, and rolled up the bottoms of her jeans to midcalf. Retrieving her wireless earbuds from the right pocket of her jeans, she pulled up a playlist on her iPhone. Listening to music was one of her favorite ways to deal with stress. It also made cleaning more fun. She stuck in her earbuds and turned up the volume as she sloshed through the cold water with the mop and bucket in hand.
Jonathan had an oversize corner room with a gorgeous view of the lake on one side and one of the woods on the other. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the sun’s weak rays peeking from behind the dark clouds that rolled across the sky. The early-morning fog that had blanketed the lake had dissipated into wispy fingers of mist.
She leaned the mop against the bucket beside Jonathan’s brown leather chair. Books and paperwork were piled on the ottoman and side table. Thankfully the judge was a tidy man. It didn’t look like any of his possessions had been damaged. She pulled up the round area rug and walked to the sliding glass door. When she opened it, a cool rain-and-pine-scented breeze rushed inside. She hung the rug over the balcony railing and then went back inside, closing the door behind her.
Time passed quickly and pleasantly as she sang and danced, mopping up the water in time to the music. She did a happy little shimmy while squeezing the last droplets of water into the bucket. She’d filled four of them.
“You traded me in for a mop,” said a familiar deep voice from behind her.
She whirled around to see a grinning Nate leaning against the door frame. She didn’t understand what he meant until she realized the song she’d been singing. The last song they’d danced to at her cousin’s wedding. She hoped he hadn’t been standing there long. If he had, he’d realize her entire playlist consisted of songs they’d danced to. How pathetic was that?
“Mr. Mop might seem like a stiff stick, but he has some pretty fancy moves.”
Nate’s grin widened. “I saw that.” He wore boots, jeans, and his black leather jacket, his helmet in his hand.
“Are you heading out?” She worked to keep the disappointment from her voice, telling herself it was because she was worried about him and not because she’d enjoyed having him around. Life had seemed a little brighter with Nate in it, a whole lot less boring too.
“I am.” He looked up at the ceiling. “From the size of the leak, it looks like you might have a bigger problem than a few missing shingles, Ellie. You’re not planning on tackling it on your own, are you?”
“No, of course not. I’ll leave that to the professionals.”
“You sure about that? The judge seems to think you’d give it a go.”
He was such a tattletale. “I was, until I realized that it was beyond my level of expertise.” Beyond hers but not her favorite YouTube fixer-upper channel’s. “Good luck with Ryder. I hope you can get through to him.” Nate had talked to her about Brodie’s son last night while they devoured Zia Maria’s chocolate pie.
“You and me both.” He held up his phone. “Let me know how it goes with your mother.”
“I will.” She walked over and gave him a hug, feeling a little self-conscious as she did so. But there was a part of her that worried this would be the last time she saw him. “Be careful. You have a lot of people who care about you,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
He hugged her back—a warm, friendly hug—then stepped away from her. “Careful is my middle name.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.” She’d heard he was a risk-taker, willing to do whatever it took to get his man, or woman, no matter the danger it put him in. “Thanks for everything, Nate. I wish you’d let me refund your room on your credit card though.”
“It was nothing, and I had the best sleep I’ve had in months. Thanks for the pizza and pie. I enjoyed the conversation and company too.”
“So did I.” Their eyes met and held for several beats of her heart, the light rain pattering against the glass the only sound in the otherwise quiet inn.
He looked away first. “I’d better get going.”
“There’s leftover pizza and sandwiches in the fridge. I can pack them up for you, if you’d like.”
“I’m good. Take care, Ellie,” he said, then turned and walked away.
“You too, Nate,” she said to his broad, leather-clad back. She leaned against the door frame, watching until he disappeared from view. He called goodbye to the judge and Joe and then the front door opened and closed. Moments later, his motorcycle started up. She stayed where she was, listening until the low rumble faded, whispering a prayer for his safety.
Her phone pinged. It was a text from her grandmother.
Don’t let Nate leave. Use your feminine wiles to keep him there. I’m on my way.
She snorted at the idea of flirting with Nate to get him to stay. She was running low on feminine wiles these days, she thought, looking down at her T-shirt and rolled-up jeans. Not that it would make any difference to Nate. He probably would have left sooner if she’d attempted to flirt with him.
You can save yourself a trip, Granny. He’s already left. He’s meeting with Brodie’s wife and their son at Dot’s Diner. She erased the part about his meeting at the diner before pressing Send. Ellie didn’t put it past her grandmother to show up at Dot’s.
As she waited for her grandmother’s response, because Agnes MacLeod always had one, she heard a vehicle turn into the inn. “You weren’t kidding, were you,” she murmured, not sure she was up for a visit with her grandmother. She rolled down her pant legs, slipped on her sneakers, then went to collect the mop and place the bucket under the wet circle on the ceiling.